Inspiration

about a week and a half before the election i went down to albuquerque to visit my father and family. i make trips as often as i can (not as often as i would like) to spend some time and "play" with by brother, zach. we are 30 years apart in age, but i have known him since he was just five days old and have had the remarkable privilege and joy of watching him grow - at various distances depending upon where i was living or traveling.
when i go to see zach i like to give him the choice of what he wants to do, let him make the decision, something that children often are denied. (although zach is not, it still feels like a little gift i can offer.) so when i arrived on this particular day, zach said he'd make some obama signs and wanted to go out to the big street and hold them up for drivers by to see. wow! not exactly what i would have guessed or how i might choose to spend my afternoon - but brilliant. we went about reinforcing the existing signs with hearty sticks and tape and managed to create a couple more together (was i stalling just a bit?), and off we went.
i found myself a little nervous, and a little excited, and mostly still in awe that we were doing what zach wanted to do - and that it was political sign holding. with our pact to meet any adversity with "have a nice day," we raised our homemade signs high and smiled and were met with honks and waves and yells of enthusiasm. alongside those, of course, there were others who gave us the thumbs down or threw out some words (civil enough as only one driver really went off). i felt the energy that zach had to share and found myself having fun and feeling good about being out there - together.
now all of the wildness of the election has past, and we welcome a historical new leader with tears and wonder and even trepidation for the tasks he, and we, must face. but the results of his message and encouragement to stand up and speak out are tangible. he inspired us in ways we may not have known. he inspired zach to opt for a unique outing on his sunday afternoon. and in turn, i got a taste, a touch. may its current keep flowing, and may we be willing to be open, courageous, and surprised. we never know where the next inspiration is lurking. it may come in an unexpected form and at a random moment. celebrate and give thanks! my thanks to zach!

(photo: Zach and One of His Obama Signs, October 2008)

A Change of Seasons

it's cooler and darker in the early, early mornings when i awake and climb out of bed to ready myself to face the crisp air and still-twinkling stars (or clouds if the weather's mood is such) en route to the quiet studio where i will move through my routine of opening the building, flicking on lights (and soon the heat), and illuminating candles – all before chanting and saying a more thorough 'hello' to my body, and spirit, by breathing and commencing my practice.  many of my ashtanga friends and family know this ritual all too well, and it strikes me that it happens daily, around the globe, in more corners than we know, this 'waking up' to all that the day has to offer – and to ourselves.
it's inevitable as we embark upon our fall journey that the warm pull of bed begins to convince us to linger just a little longer – or even through our practice. and i would be the last person to say that it's easy to get up when it seems like everyone else is enjoying such a delightful embrace – or discredit the seasonal need for more sleep in this transitional time – but i would be the first to acknowledge that most of the struggle is harbored in my mind.  i've come to know that it's a loving thing to give myself both practice and rest, but the trick is being able to decipher the difference between the whisperings of my mind and those of my heart.  so each morning that i choose to part ways with my pillow and position my self upon my mat, resistance and all, is a choice to let go of the struggle, even just a little bit, and take a small step closer to something else, to unknown possibilities, to befriending myself and my own  truth.
from now until spring it's only going to get colder and darker – at least outside. 
happy fall to all!

(photo: Copyright QT Luong, terragalleria.com)

Where Did I Do My Training?

lately a lot have people, students and otherwise, have been asking me where i did my training to become a yoga teacher. i guess trainings are pretty common these days, and the title "certified yoga instructor" is too, but my response to such a question is more the flavor of "where did i (do i) not do my training?"  
yes, it's true, i have attended courses that specifically address the aspects of teaching ashtanga, and i have been to mysore, india and studied at the ayri with guruji (sri k. pattabhi jois) and r. sharath, but in the ashtanga tradition "certified" is a ranking i will likely not attain, and the posted definition to become a teacher of ashtanga yoga is that "the aspirant should demonstrate an appropriate attitude, devotion towards the practice, and a respect for the tradition of parampara, the succession of teacher and disciple."  a certain amount of time spent in mysore "studying the tradition at its source" is also required – and irreplaceable in terms of an understanding of this method.  
but, ultimately, it is the practice, the time spent on the mat, consistently, day in, day out, posture after posture, breath after breath, year after year, that prepares one to teach.  how much time?  that will vary, of course.  i never planned to teach until my teacher asked me, and then not until i was moved to share what i could of my own journey with the hope of communicating even a hint of the inspiration to delve deeper – into the light and the darkness – an inspiration that still burns fervently. commitment to practice and teaching are inextricably woven to create the fabric of the "training."
as i awake and move amidst the highs and lows, the smiles and tears, all that i bump up against or sail through, with the gift of a little grace or a certain steadiness to carry on, everything, every experience informs me – as a practitioner, a teacher, and as a human being.
where did i do my training?  i'm still doing it – every day!

(photo: By Robin Bergner)

Rainy Sunday

it's sunday evening following a whole night and day of rain – sometimes even heavy, wake-you-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night, wild, wonderful rain. it's been an unusually wet summer in santa fe, and most of us are loving it, as are the plants and the ground, drinking up the moisture. sometimes rain makes us want to tuck in and settle down with a book and a cup of tea or watch a movie or just snooze. but even amidst some of my own internal gloominess i geared up an went out in it and oh, what a treat! and because i had the benefit of waterproof shoes and a raincoat, i just let it fall upon me, feeling and listening to the drops in their abundant rhythms and textures, bouncing through puddles without a care. and just like the flowers and tomatoes and any number of things alive and growing, i too felt nourished, lighter in my spirit, somehow cleansed.
it's from this place i begin. well fed and following the the new moon (yesterday at 1:58pm, santa fe time), and the last day of august, i embark upon this blog -  a place to share the rain with you, a place to be with you. it's a good time for beginnings, i think.

(photo: Copyright 2003 Phil Douglis)